Steampunk Winnie
by jasonmcm
Summary: Inspector Winnie the Pooh and his assistant Piglet are detectives in Old Nichol, a notorious slum of London. One day they hear a rumor that a Woozel has been spotted in the area and they set out on a search for the elusive character. Along the way they meet some other Winnie the Pooh characters and are presented with a mystery only they can solve.


**Steampunk Winnie**

London at the end of the Nineteenth Century was a cesspool. The city was home to some of the worst slums on the planet, most notably the area of Whitechapel. Home to most of the sins and follies of mankind and made even more famous by the notorious murderer, Jack the Ripper. What you may not know though, is there were other places in the British capital with stories of their own, interesting in their own right. This is one of those stories. My name is Lieutenant Winnie the Pooh, a royal detective based in the slum of Old Nichol. This is my story.

Being a police detective is hard, it is especially hard when your beat is one of the worst neighborhood's in the country. Old Nichol, was a neighborhood on the east side of London, in fact it was just north of Whitechapel. Prior to joining the London police force I had joined army. As soon as I became a full grown bear I marched into the recruiting office and told them I was no longer a cub and they signed me up. Withing two weeks they had shipped me to Ireland for infantry training. After that I was assigned to the West Indies where I served for a while before finally ending up in Canada. That was a tough part of my life. Fighting in the Wendigo War in Manitoba gave all of us nightmares, but such is the price of defending our great empire and the good name of Queen Victoria.

After my five years of service I was given a government job with the police and worked my way up for a couple of years until I made inspector. That is when they asked me to go to Old Nichol. If I had not been there myself, I would not believe this story, but I will attempt to tell it anyway. Our precinct was set on Boundary Street and I was enjoying one of the rare quiet days. Before I knew it a harbinger of bad news walked in my door. His name was Reginald Hook. He was eighteen years old and a bit of a trouble maker. He liked his whiskey more than his money and the booze usually made him believe he was an invincible warrior. When sober, I genuinely liked the boy though. "Is Inspector Pooh in?" he asked the desk sergeant.

"Yes indeed Mr. Hook." Rabbit replied pointing into my office. I had my office window's blinds open that day and so took notice of these events.

"Thank you!" Reginald timidly replied as he began walking towards the office. Rabbit said nothing as he busily began filing again. Rabbit was nothing if not efficient. I would never tell him this, but Rabbit was probably the best file clerk in all of London. Reginald knocked on my door and then I gestured for him to come in. "Inspector, I have some information I would like to relay to you" the boy began.

"Is that right?" I inquired. "Here I thought I was going to have a lazy day to eat my honey and drink my mead. No matter, let's have it out of you!" Then I closed the book I was reading and looked unwaveringly at the boy.

"Well sir, I heard a rumor about the Virginia Street Timber Yard. Supposed to be some group of rooks that gather there at night and do God knows what in the darkness." The boy was visibly sweating while he made these remarks.

"Why exactly are we listening to unfounded rumors now?" I asked.

"No sir, it ain't like that! I went there myself and I saw em. Creeping about in the dark."

"What interest do you have in knowing if there is a band of rogues who skulk about in timber yards in the moonlight Reginald?'

"You may not know this sir, but my father works at that particular timber yard and he says that some of their timber has gone missing. That's valuable wood sir. If these persons are taking the wood, my pop could get laid off or the yard might close down. Either way, they need somebody to figure out what is happening there before it gets dangerous." Reginald was looking at the window at this point and still sweating.

"And why exactly do you suppose these timber thieves will become violent?" I retorted. By this time I had not made up my mind if Reginald had started using laudanum or if something very strange was indeed happening.

"A friend of mine, Tommy Smith who lives pretty close to the timber yard says he saw a guy at the Frothy Dog Alehouse who was not from these parts. He had a strange look to him ya might say and he was wearing a funny purple robe with a hood." Reginald could tell I did not believe him at this point and so continued. "I am telling you the truth inspector. What's more this fellow was trying to find who owned the timber yard. Said he wanted to buy it. Nobody knew though, you know how hard it is to actually find an owner of something in Old Nick."

"This is a charming story Reginald, but I think it sounds like hogwash." I opened my book again as I tried to explain my lack of interest to him.

"Maybe sir, but you keep your eyes open for a Woozel wearing a purple hood just in case." I slammed my book closed with a loud pop.

"Did you say a Woozel? I think my day just got complicated." Getting up, I reached for my jacket and matching bowler and headed out the door, leaving Reginald in a stunned silence.

**The Introduction of the Swine**

When I wear my full police uniform I'm a sight to see. Okay, I might be biased. While I may have been a touch overweight, my navy blue suit and black shoes made me look just a bit slimmer. I had a scarlet and black vest over my navy shirt and covered that with a jacket that was likewise navy blue. Next, I carried a golden pocket watch with a gold chain, but it wasn't pure gold, I had it tested. The piece de resistance though was my navy blue bowler hat. This bowler was given to me by Christopher Robin himself and only later modified by me with the two interlocking gears on the right side.

I knew that I needed to make a visit to the Frothy Dog Ale House, but first I had to go find Trespassers W. Everyone knew he would be found at the Blue and Gold Saloon, that was where the coppers went during their down time when they wanted to get drinks. Trespassers W was no exception. He liked his booze strong and maybe if I were lucky I'd catch him before he got too drunk. Before long I had walked to the end of Boundary Street and there stood The Blue and Gold. It was just about supper time so I felt like I had a good chance of catching him eating his meal before the drinking began in earnest.

Upon entering the moderately shabby establishment I saw him at his usual table. I found a chair and pulled it up next to him and sat down with a hum. "Ho hum, I say Piglet, it seems I have a task for the both of us." I placed my hat upon the table and had pulled out my pocket watch so as to appear to be in a hurry. The swine sitting across the table from me was a feisty creature and did not like being called 'Piglet'. In fact, only his very old friends could call him that. Fortunately I would fall into that category and so he tolerated the nickname. The truth of the matter was that almost nobody called Trespassers W 'Piglet' since he was a wee runt. The last guy that used that word got a swift fist to jawbone.

"Pooh, you know a growing boar has to got to eat right?" Trespassers rubbed the tips of his small tusks one by one as he said this. "First I eat, then we crack skulls okay?"

"What exactly are you eating anyway Piglet? Is that slop?"

"Ha ha!" Piglet said sarcastically. "You're jokes are as first rate as ever I see." I never understood why my friend didn't like the 'pigs eat slop' line of jokes, but I thought they were comedy gold.

"Besides" I said. "You aren't a teenage boar, you are a full grown pig. Maybe not a large pig, but a swine nonetheless."

"Careful Pooh, you wouldn't want me to talk about the time you got stuck in the door at Rabbit's house again now would you?"

"Touche Piglet! Finish up and let's head out." Ten minutes later we were both heading down the road to toward Virginia Street and the Frothy Dog Ale House. I filled Sergeant Piglet in on the details as we walked. He was a fine sergeant. I knew since we were small that he would be one heck of a brawler. He was short, he was muscular and he was vicious when provoked. People always underestimated him and he usually made them regret it. He had even won a couple of bare knuckle boxing matches he had entered in the past. Today though, I was hoping I didn't need those skills, but with a Woozel involved it was important to be careful.

Not many people knew much about Piglet, or Trespassers W as he was really named. Apparently it was a family name. His grandpa was named Trespassers William, but at some point he dropped the William and just used the 'W'. Piglet said his grandpa was always known to say "The reason I had two names was in case I lost one of them and as you can see, I am now only Trespassers W, so my planning was sound." I had once asked Piglet if his grandfather was a madman and he punched me in the gut. Only on one other occasion did I ask him about his mysterious "forgotten name" and he told me it always helpful to have spare things in case of a shortage. That's fine, I get it. He didn't want to talk about it.

The important thing right now was finding that Woozel in his purple costume. When we approached The Frothy Dog I noticed Piglet began cracking his knuckles. "Trouble?" I asked him.

"Looks like it might be sir. There have been three suited men following us since we came on to Virginia Street." I casually glanced behind us and noticed the three men. Two on the left side of the road and one on the right, doing their best to look casual, but hardly succeeding.

"Let's head inside and see if they follow us there" I suggested. We walked into a dump of an establishment where people came to get liquids that didn't taste like beer, but would get you drunk anyway. Cheap and gross, but effective. Perfect for Old Nick's Slums. We saw the bartender and asked him about any Woozels and he nodded yes, but wouldn't say more. He told us to go talk to Harwell Gladstone, the brick mason. He said we would find him in the back corner sitting with two of his friends. We did as he suggested and asked for Harwell.

"Whose asking?" one of the men replied.

"I am Lieutenant Pooh of the Royal Police and this is my Sergeant, Trespassers W."

"That's a stupid name...Trespassers W" one of the other two said to no one in particular.

"I would be careful if I were you." I began "The sergeant is not known for his kindness and mercy."

The first man began again "Ironic isn't it? People call coppers pigs and here they have one as a sergeant. A tiny little pig copper." Suddenly the table they were sitting at crashed to floor with a loud bang. Piglet had grabbed the first man by the collar and head butted him between the eyes. Then he threw him toward the opposite wall of the bar which he collided into before slumping to the ground. Next, he punched the second man right in the mouth and then using his left hand boxed his right ear. This caused the man to fall out of his chair and hit the ground face first.

The third man by this time had got up and backed into the wall away from Piglet and was shouting as loud as he could "Okay! Okay! I will tell you what you want to know." Three minutes later we had the information we were looking for and headed off to the Virginia Street Timber Yard in hopes of meeting a mysterious Woozel, known to us only as 'Kipner.'

**The Surly Manager**

After our encounter at the Frothy Dog, Piglet and I headed over to the Virginia Street Timber Yard because we wanted to get a look at the layout in the day time. Sure I had seen it several times, but frankly until now I wasn't interested in staking it out. Piglet smoked nervously on his pipe as we walked that way. I knew he wasn't scared, but something about him seemed nervous. Either he knew something I didn't or his instincts were telling him something was wrong. "Everything all right ole boy? I asked.

"Just thinking" he replied. "Seems we lost those fellows who were following us earlier." He continued puffing at a furious pace and then about thirty seconds later he turned directly toward me and put his hand on my shoulder beckoning me to stop. "I do not know what this case is all about, but mark my words Pooh, there is something fishy going on." He then removed his hand from my shoulder and began walking at a quick pace back towards the timber yard. Not expecting him to dash off so quickly I had to pick up my pace, but fortunately my legs were longer than his so I made up for it over time.

Before long we had reached the timber yard and the building that housed its managers' offices. I would like to say the weather wear on the building made it into a shambles, but I feel like that would be too kind to this wretched edifice. It was solid white, but you could barely tell it due to the gray and black soot and the green lichens covering the building. "Not much to look at is it?" I commented dryly. Piglet just shook his head and we headed to the front door.

Upon entering the room, a small bell went off and we heard a male voice. "We aren't open. Come back next week! Unless we aren't open next week that is."

"Well, well, if it isn't my old friend Eeyore!" I said as I grinned from ear to ear. I grinned that big because I knew he would hate it.

"Oh...is that you Pooh?" Eeyore inquired. "I am surprised to see you. I figured you had forgotten all about me. Or at least thought I had left the country."

"Why would I think that? Were you planning on leaving and changed your mind?" I asked not at the least bit surprised by his statement. I knew Eeyore. I knew he was sarcastic and that he always thought he was being left out of everything. The truth was though, he was a very smart donkey with a good heart, just he didn't have any self-esteem.

"No. Where would I go? Who would accept a poor gray donkey from Johannesburg? I am a colonial Pooh, it isn't as if I could get a job working for the House of Lords." He used that tone of voice that you expect eye rolling to occur at the same time, he just wasn't actually rolling them. "My mother used to always tell me 'Stay in South Africa Eeyore, England is no place for a nice donkey. The politicians will eat you up like so much thistle.' Yet here I sit as a manager of a timber yard in Old Nichol, yelling at people to chop faster and bring me more paperwork. Leagues above Africa as you can no doubt tell."

"I see you have created your own little metaphorical rain cloud to pour gloom on your day." I declared as I took my hat off and pulled up a chair near his desk.

"Day, week, month, year; what difference does it make?" he sardonically responded.

"I hate to interrupt your pity party Eeyore, but I was hoping you could give me some information."

"And here I was thinking you had come to visit me, but no no! It appears Inspector Pooh needs something from the colonial donkey. Let's hear it then. Spit it out." Sometimes Eeyore could absolutely frustrate you if you allowed him too. I had learned over many long years before I had joined the army that it was better if you just ignored him. Sort of like the old expression 'don't feed the fire'. It seemed to work with him.

"Well, Eeyore..." I began. I knew he liked it when people said his name. "I am looking for a woozel named Kipner. Someone told me he was seen around here and supposedly he was even wearing a purple robe and hood."

Eeyore looked inquisitively at me and after a few moments of silence he began. "If there really is a Woozel here, and he really is wearing purple clothes with a hood he is either a madman or he knows something we don't know. No sane person would wear such a hideous costume unless he is mad or trying to draw attention to himself."

"So you are saying that if he isn't mad, this could be a rouse to catch our attention."

"Exactly!" the donkey replied.

"Is it okay if we have a look around the timber yard?" Piglet asked.

"Do you have a warrant?" Eeyore asked.

"No." I said "but I was hoping I wouldn't need one."

"Well, that isn't up to me. I am a lowly manager. You would need to ask the owner."

"And who exactly is the owner?" I could tell Piglet was obviously getting tired of this case by the way he asked that question.

"Who knows?" was all Eeyore could say about that. "You two know as well as I do that ownership in the Old Nichol is nearly impossible to figure out. Rich men hire lawyers, who in turn hire agents to collect rent for them and often times those men use lawyers to protect their identities so the agry masses won't come loot their houses in the night. Trying to find the owner of this property would require a very good investigator. Probably you would have to hire Sherlock Holmes."

I laughed at this comment and then proceeded to spend the next ten minutes persuading him to help me out in any way he could, but there wasn't anything to be done. After a little more small talk I bid Eeyore goodbye and I promised I would come visit sometime. This was turning into one dead end case, but I still had this feeling that I needed some more investigating and I just knew who I needed to go see. "Sherlock Holmes! Bah! I will show him Sherlock Holmes!" I shouted when we were far enough away I was sure he couldn't have heard me.

**A Message From the Mayor**

Before we could continue on our case though, another unforeseen event occurred. A messenger boy came running up to us saying the Mayor of London himself was sitting in my Boundary Street Office waiting on my return. "Well Piglet, I think this case may have to be put on hold for a bit. Let's go and see what he wants shall we?" Piglet nodded in ascent and we headed back to the office. It was about dark by the time we got there and Rabbit gave me a few pieces of small news and then hurriedly sent Piglet and me into my office. There he sat, the man I hadn't seen in years, the Mayor of London. He also just so happened to be my childhood friend, Christopher Robin.

Christopher Robin looked dashing. He had that sense of style about him. Dressed in a gorgeous brown suit and vest, he looked like a politician. I mean that in a good way. Piglet had a brown suit and hat on as well, but he pulled off the look of a policeman. Christopher Robin, looked like an ambassador. I don't know where he learned his sense of style, but I sure wish I had half of what he possessed.

"Wow! It is good to see you again Christopher Robin!" I was very glad indeed to see my old friend.

"Same to you Pooh!" Christopher Robin said as he gave me a firm handshake and a hug. "How are things you silly old bear? And Piglet, you are looking like a mighty fine pig. I have heard you are some sort of famous boxer is that true?"

"Yes, and I am going by my actual name now Christopher Robin. It sounds more formidable, Trespassers W, it kind of rolls off of the tongue." The three of us spent the next half an hour catching up and asking how life was as an important man in the city. Before long though, Christopher Robin changed the subject to business.

"You both know that technically I am here on important business for the crown right?"

"No, we didn't" Piglet replied. What business is that?"

"Well..." began Christopher Robin. "It seems that someone has broken into the London Zoo and busted the lock on the tiger cage. When the zookeepers inspected the cage they found the tiger was gone. At first they assumed he got loose and would be found wandering in the park or maybe nearby, but it appears that someone actually stole the tiger."

"Stole the tiger? Surely you jest!" I exclaimed in disbelief.

"Not at all." Christopher Robin said in a very matter of fact way. "I have never been more serious in my life. Adding on top of that strangeness some of my informants have told me that the rumor is that their have been sightings of a tiger in the underground, beneath the Old Nichol Rookery."

"Right in the heart of our territory." Piglet dryly replied.

"Exactly!" Christopher Robin said as he pointed his finger at him in a gesture to imply he was correct. "That is where you two come in. It would be a huge help to me if you could find that tiger for me. Between the three of us, I am intending to announce my run for the House of Commons at the end of the year and I don't want this turn into a scandal. Find that tiger, bring him back and arrest whoever did this crime and I will be sure to rave about what a good job you did to your superiors." Both Piglet and I understood and so we walked the mayor out to his hansom and then proceeded to shut down the police station for the night. Yes, this was a wild day, but we needed some sleep if we were going to tackle two cases tomorrow.

**The Next Day Part 1: The Hunt is On**

When I arrived at the police station the next morning there was a tiger waiting. Not the tiger who escaped from the zoo, but a much more friendly and man-like tiger. I know you know how this works dear reader, but just in case I want to clarify. There are animals who walk on four legs and do not posses higher intelligence and then there are animals, who do and are capable of making tools, building cities and defrauding each other. This tiger however, was the latter kind. He was a Burmese Tiger that I met while I was in the service. His name was Tigger and he was a professional elephant hunter. Saying that doesn't even explain it fully. He was not just an elephant hunter, but a Heffalump hunter.

The heffalumps, for the uninformed are very similar to elephants, but they are bigger, stronger, faster and posses intelligence and the ability to talk. My personal experience has been they are either cruel or temperamental at best. I do realize that is a stereotype however. I had one tour in India when I was in the army, prior to Canada. It was a very interesting learning experience and I will never forget some of the atrocities I saw heffalumps committing. I am convinced that the horrible tale of "Letting in the Jungle" by Rudyard Kipling tells of his similar experience with heffalumps. It was nice to have Tigger around, it was fun working with a tiger who truly made an impact in the Indian subcontinent.

"Hello there Pooh!" shouted Tigger as I arrived. "I am here and I brought my tiger gun." He tapped the musket lightly with his right hand while holding it in his left, barrel pointed up and to his left. That gun was a fine piece of work. He told me it was made by the great clockwork craftsmen from Zurich in Switzerland. Its cogs turned beautifully. I have no idea how they got the cogs and the barrel the exact same shade of light brown, the maker must have been a master craftsman indeed. He was a tall tiger who wore a large brimmed, light brown hat. Chocolate brown pants and a matching long sleeve shirt with a complimentary black vest added to his hunter look. I noticed also he had a bag on his right side which I knew was where he kept his bombs. Tigger was nothing if not prepared.

"Excellent Tigger! Thank you for coming. When Trespassers W arrives we shall head out on our errands. We waited five minutes and Piglet arrived. We then headed off towards the Old Nichol Rookery. This was the part of Old Nichol where the shoddiest and most tightly packed of the houses were. Crime was rampant, especially at night and the seedy elements used the underground tunnel system to come in and out of Old Nichol at will. If Old Nichol were a slum, the Rookery was its beating heart.

The three of us traveled straight there and began looking for anything or anyone out of place. We knew Christopher Robin had some informants here, but apparently they didn't want to be seen working with the police and so Christopher Robin had not provided us with those details. That just meant we would have to get a little creative. We would just have to find someone who would be willing to talk either by bribe or threat, that was just how you get things done in the Rookery. Fortunately, we soon came across a beggar I had paid for information a few times before and he told us to head down Club Row a bit and look for a green door. He said behind that door we would find the one who could tell us about the tiger.

Five minutes later the three of us stood staring at a small cottage. There were apartment buildings on both sides and across the street was a small store front, but somehow despite the pathetic look of this cottage it just seemed out of place. It looked almost otherworldly. I stood in the middle with Piglet to my right and Tigger on the opposite side. Piglet began knocking on the door with a loud and firm knock. "Police! Open this door! Police!"

"Maybe nobody is home." Tigger suggested as he pulled a bomb out of his bag.

"No Tigger. Not on my watch. Not in our city." He acted upset, but he knew my words were wise. It seemed a very long time and I had given up hope that anyone would ever open the door. I had begun humming a song to myself and thinking about a big jar of honey I had at the house. I couldn't think of anything in the world I wanted more at that very second. Reality jarred me back to myself however, when I heard a latch come loose on the opposite side of the door.

"Just a minute" a raspy male voice said. A second latch was undone and then with a very loud creak the door opened. I swore in that moment that my eyes were playing tricks on me but right before us stood a Woozel wearing a purple cloak and had a purple hood attached in the back. I guess he didn't feel the need to wear his hood indoors.

"On my honor, I was not expecting you Mister Kipner" I said as I stroked my chin.

"How do you know my name? Have we met before sir?" the Woozel inquired.

"No sir, I am Inspector Pooh and we are the Boundary Street Police and we have been looking for you ever since we left the Frothy Dog Ale House." I showed him my badge as I was talking and I looked him up and down. What a strange outfit he was wearing.

"Well Inspector Pooh, have I done something wrong?" The Woozel looked a little nervous and he clearly was not happy to be talking to the police, but I technically didn't have anything to bring him in on. Maybe with a little talk he would give us some information we could work with. If Piglet was the brawn, my job was the negotiating.

"No sir Mr. Kipner, I just need to know your business in Old Nichol and need to know your employer's name."

"My business here is related to real estate. I am attempting to buy some property in this borough for my employers The Guiscard and Ermine Law Firm out of Plymouth. We are looking to find some rental properties and perhaps some small business who could be turned around with cash. My superiors feel that Old Nichol is just the place to make that happen."

"I see." I could tell that the Woozel was lying to me, but I had no idea what was true and what was false. "I was also told you were the man to come see about a missing tiger. What do you know about that?" Kipner's face lost all color. Weasel faces don't usually lose their color, but Kipner's did here.

"What? Where did you hear that? I...I don't know anything about a missing tiger."

"Would you mind coming with us to the station for a few minutes Mr. Kipner? I am sure we can clear this all up in no time." Piglet made this suggestion and moved his hands in a way as to indicate inviting him to come along.

"Umm...yes, yes of course. Give me just a minute to get my hat and walking cane." The Woozel headed off into the back and was gone for a few minutes, but I didn't think anything of it.

"What does he need a hat for?" Tigger wondered aloud. "He has a hood after all." I agreed this was strange and thought about it for a moment. Then when I realized my mistake I yelled as loud as I could.

"He's making a break for it! Check the back Piglet!" Tigger and I rushed inside meanwhile and found the house completely empty. However, upon a further inspection we found a trap door leading into the sewers beneath the Rookery. "We should have expected this Trespassers." The sergeant nodded in ascent as he looked at the opening.

"Why did you call him Piglet back there Inspector?" Tigger inquired.

"Ahh!" I said. A little ashamed of myself. "Trespassers W and I grew up together and when he was a piglet we called him that, but since he has become a full grown pig he beats the teeth out of anyone who calls him that. Excluding friends in private though. I just slipped up in the heat of the moment."

"I see. So you don't like being called Piglet huh?" Before Tigger could say another word Trespassers had descended upon him and punched him very hard in the stomach. "Oof!" he shouted in pain.

"No. I would prefer you not call me that."

"Message received." Tigger panted, still a little out of breath. I couldn't help but silently laugh to myself and Trespassers saw the grin.

"Sharing secrets are we now Pooh? Tigger, do you know they call the Inspector 'Pooh' because when he was a young bear he chewed so much tobacco his most commonly used word was 'Pooh!' as he spit the dip out."

"Now now." Pooh retorted "Let's not go down this road shall we?"

"In fact, his actual name is Edward!" Piglet defiantly declared. Tigger found this conversation perfectly entertaining suddenly, seeming to have forgotten the gut punch he had suffered. I knew that Piglet had found a way to punish me for laughing without actually hitting me, so I was willing to let it slide. We combed through the small collection of papers Kipner kept on his desk and found only one that was interesting. It merely said _Come see me as soon as you can. Time is shorter now that the police are involved. -Guiscard_. The letter head said 'Guiscard and Ermine 45 Lovat Lane, London'.

I looked at both of my companions and said "Looks like we are going downtown too gentlemen. The question is, do you want to go down town first or do you want to take a zephyr ride?"

**The Next Day Part II: The Eye in the Sky**

London is beautiful when seen from above. We decided on the zephyr ride so we took the train across town to a merchant I used to know from my pre-army days. Her name was Kanga and she had been a Zephyr Balloon pilot for the Australian Penal Colony prior to her immigration to England. She and her soon Roo had traveled to England and set up shop south of London taking tourists and nobles on zephyr rides. She had started out just renting the balloons, but by the time of our story she owned a small fleet of her own. The good news was that she owed me a favor and I cashed it in by taking a free ride on one of her zephyrs.

Piglet told me after we left the ground that he had never been on a zephyr before and I could tell he was a little scared. He would never admit it of course, but I could see the color leave his face when we first got going. Tigger was very excited and couldn't stop bouncing prior to take off. Roo assured him if he bounced like that during flight he would receive a swift kick to the back of the head. If you have ever seen a kangaroo's feet you will know that this was not taken lightly. Other than the one occurrence though, Tigger and Roo got along great, they seemed as if they were old pals.

I think I mentioned a minute ago that London is beautiful when seen from above. I say it again for emphasis, not due to memory loss. The first thing you notice is the blue waters of the Thames snaking across the plains of southern England. Next, the buildings seem to jut out into skyline as a testament to the glorious achievements of our race. I hear the Pyramids are fantastic from the air as well, but I can't imagine it being more spectacular than this. When we approached the downtown we all stared in marvel at the stone walls of the Tower of London and the famous Big Ben. The largest clockwork tower in the world. Just to make the theme completely over the top they added a giant clock face to the top, but it all pulls together marvelously.

I also happened to take a glance down at Lovat Lane as I knew we would be heading there later in the day. It seemed remarkably tame, but I hoped that I would find some of my answers there. Tigger started talking to me but I missed whatever he said at first. "Hello!" he was nearly shouting at me.

"I'm sorry Tigger." I replied. "What is it now?"

"Trespassers told me why you are called Pooh, but if your name is Edward why do they call you Winnie?"

"Oh that" I said reluctantly. "When I was in Canada I was stationed at Winnipeg during the war there. We had a vicious battle one winter day, hundreds were killed. We almost lost the city, but we held out. I just happened to be the highest ranking officer who wasn't killed that day. The press got word of the story and started called me the Hero of Winnipeg. My fellow soldiers shortened it to Winnie and the nickname stuck."

"Don't let him fool you" Roo stated "He did save that city."

"We...we saved that city Roo. It wasn't just me there were many good men and animals there along side me." Then I sighed thoughtfully and looked at our destination. "Roo, fly over Old Nichol now so we can have a look." He nodded agreement and turned the balloon toward our new destination. Piglet, Tigger and I meanwhile pulled out our police issue binoculars and got ready for our task.

"These goggles are amazing!" exclaimed Piglet, who had not ever used any of such fine quality before.

"Not only that" I retorted. "They also have night vision so when we come back up here tonight, we will be able to see then too. Roo knew the plan. He was to drop us off at the White Chapel Docks and then wait until nightfall. I had already talked to the inspector there and he agreed we could keep the zephyr there until after dark when we would head out again. Our afternoon trip in the zephyr profited very little, we did learn the Virginia Street Lumber Yard also had two other buildings on the property. One to the northeast of the yard and one in the very center. Honestly I was hoping for more, but maybe the night time excursion would be better. First, one more errand though, a little trip to the Guiscard and Ermine Law Firm.

When we had landed at the docks and said goodbye to Roo for the time being, Piglet looked like he wanted to ask me a question. I let him ponder on it a little while, but before too long I thought it best to ask. "What is it Trespassers? I know you have that question you want to ask."

"Well Pooh" he sheepishly replied. "I was just thinking about Kanga back there at the zephyr shop. I couldn't help but wonder what exactly you did for he that she so readily agreed to take us up in the sky for free."

"Well it was for Roo's sake she allowed it" I confessed. " You see, after Kanga arrived here she found Roo to have some...let's call them 'teenage difficulties'. Roo was working for his mother and one day he was flying a zephyr over the northern coast of Spain. He was working for some client of theirs. Well, before too long Roo had flown too low to the ground and got the balloon stuck in one of their tall honey trees. Spain has always been know for its honey trees and he didn't take into account their height and crashed."

"I see." Piglet replied.

"The main problem though, was that once the authorities investigated it they found out Roo had been using laudanum and had been driving under the influence. They threw him in a jail cell in Madrid. Kanga called me to go fetch him and as part of the deal for keeping him out of prison he had to serve four years in the Royal Air Force. As far as I know he has been clean ever since though. Nice lad, good pilot."

"I heard him say he served in India" Tigger added.

"Yes, that's right" I said.

As soon as the last sentence had left my mouth I noticed something strange. It seemed like there were two men following us. I mentioned this to Trespassers and he agreed, but said it was actually four men and three of them were the same who had been following us near The Frothy Dog. "When were you going to tell us?" Tigger asked.

"When I was sure." Trespassers replied.

"Are you sure now?" I asked.

"Yes. Quite certain." Quickly he spun around and charged directly at one of the men. Trespassers was fast, but the distance was great enough that the man had time to pull out a pistol and fire. Fortunately the pig saw it coming and did a foot first slide into the man's legs knocking him to the ground. The three other men quickly came to his aid and started beating on Trespassers with clubs. Tigger and I knew from the moment the man drew his gun that this would not be a fair fight and so we meant to play rough too.

Tigger reacted faster than I did and pulled out his clockwork musket. ::POW:: It sounded like thunder when he shot that gun, but surprisingly the men didn't even pause. "That was my warning shot!" Tigger shouted. ::POW:: Again it sounded like thunder and my ears were ringing horribly. One of the men dropped swiftly to the ground. This however, did startle our assailants and Trespassers used this moment to regain his footing. He then quickly punched one of the men three times across the face, right hand, left hand, right hand. Then he kneed him in the stomach and threw him onto the ground.

I also had a trick up my sleeve our opponents didn't know about. When I came back to England I had met someone whose specialty was traps, devices and steamwork gadgets. One particular thing I had on me at this time was called 'The Honey Trap'. I snuck up behind one of the two remaining men and threw the glass canister at his feet. The glass broke with a puff of smoke and thick, unnaturally sticky honey seeped out covering his feet. Leaving him completely unable to move them. I then knocked his club out of his hand and punched him in the face.

The last man knew they had lost and made an effort to run away. He had made a move before we expected it and had got a considerable head start. "Go Trespassers!" I shouted. The fastest pig you will ever see ran past me and quickly gained that ground back. He leaped upon the man's back and knocked him flat onto the hard surface of the road. The man screamed in pain and Trespassers pinned his legs so we could tie him up when we reached them. We now had three prisoners that I wanted questioned. There was nobody better for that job than Trespassers W. I told him to go ahead and bring them to the police station and meet Tigger and myself at the zephyr right after nightfall. Somebody didn't want us to go find these Woozels and I wanted to know why.

After our fight we headed onwards to the law office, Tigger wanted to know more about my honey trap so I told him about it. "Well there is this Owl who lives in Bethnal Green, he is a sort of inventor. Maybe you could even call him a Tinker. He specialized in contraptions and sometimes he lets me buy some of his inventory. The honey trap has some sort of chemical he mixes with the honey that makes it much stronger and stickier than normal. It will hold any man or animal in place as far as I have seen. Then with this other vial I have, it is called 'The Solvent' it can be washed like it was never there. It is far better at getting rid of chemicals and oils than water or similar substances.

"Would it be fair to call him an alchemist then?" Tigger inquired.

"No, I don't think so. I know he wouldn't use that term and he has no interest in making gold. He is more of a chemist, who just so happens to think outside of the box. Maybe add a pinch of mad scientist to the mix" I said laughing. "Owl is just a concerned citizen who wants what is best for the city he lives in. When he sells me things he knows they are going to someone whose goals match up closely with his own. Therefore it is in both of our interest to do business with each other."

"That sounds reasonable enough" Tigger conceded. "I wish there were more citizens who felt that same way."

"As do I, my friend. As do I."

**Woozels at Law**

When we arrived at 45 Lovat Lane we were greeted by a very large brown building. It looked like it was originally designed as residential property, but was converted to offices at some time after that. We were greeted at the door by a female Woozel, who claimed to be the secretary. She said her name was Oksana, but I had misgivings about her. She led us into the office of Mr. Robert Guiscard, Esquire. He was busy writing in some type of ledger book when we came in and wrote for a minute more before shutting the book and welcoming us.

"Good evening officers, you just caught us before we headed home for the day. How can we be of service?"

"We are investigating strange activities out of Old Nichols and a particular Woozel named Kipner has led us to you."

"Is that right?" Guiscard asked. "And what exactly for may I ask?"

"You tell me." I retorted. "How are you mixed up with the Virginia Street Timber Yard?"

"Ahh! Now I understand" the Woozel replied. "We were contacted by some wealthy investors who wanted to buy some land in Old Nichol. Our office set up an exploratory expedition into your precinct and it was decided by our client that the Virginia Street Timber Yard was the property they wanted to purchase. The problem though, was we don't know who owns the property. We know that the Saxon Collection Agency collects the taxes and we know they pay the solicitor Edward Smith, whose office is in Norwich, but the trail grows cold there. Mr. Smith refuses to tell us who he works for and the records in your part of London are notoriously bad. In short we have no idea where to proceed and so until more information comes to light we have suspended working on that case."

Well then sir, may I ask why you sent a note marked two days ago to Kipner to come and see you?" I asked.

"Yes, Kipner is a client of ours in his own right and that is his personal business. Though I assure you, it is completely legal.

"For your sake I hope you are right!" I said as I began walking to the door. "You do realize that if it comes to light a Woozel law firm is aiding in illegal activities in the city the populace will kick your entire species out of the city. Who knows you may cause such anti-Woozel sentiment that the English people will boot you out of the whole country like Ferdinand and Isabella kicked the Moors out of Spain." I could see he did not like that response, but I hoped he would see the truth in it. "Mark my words Mr. Guiscard. If your hands are dirty you need to come clean sooner and not later. I let Tigger out first and then I slammed it as hard as I could.

"That went well" I said sarcastically.

"Whatever is happening involves that timber yard" Tigger declared. "I just can't figure out what it is." A moment later the secretary Oksana appeared on the street behind us.

"Sirs!" she called. "I heard what you said back there about the people of this country kicking all of us Woozels out of England. I don't want that sir. I want the English to know some of us just want to live a good life like they do."

"That is mighty good of you to say so Ms. Oksana." I said giving a slight bow.

"Inspector, I don't know exactly what Kipner has found, but I know he was trying to recruit a mercenary crew and some laborers. There are only about eight to ten actual members of the cult Kipner runs, the rest are hired on. The actual members though..." she paused. "They are crazy!"

We thanked her and began heading back to Old Nichol. Who would have thought it? It is an actual cult of crazy Woozels! Until this point I thought it was just one insane Woozel and his lawyers. Now we were talking multiple cultists and hired mercenaries to boot.

"Hopefully between Trespassers interrogations and our night time zephyr ride we will have enough to get a warrant and we can go check that yard out for ourselves" I told Tigger when we were out of earshot of the secretary.

**Hidden Treasure**

When Tigger and I arrived at the docks we found Trespassers already there waiting on us. He was ready to go and already had his night vision goggles out and around his neck.

"Ready to go gents?" he asked pointing towards the zephyr.

"Yes" I stated. "Did you learn anything from questioning those men?"

"I did sir" he replied. "Two of them wouldn't say much at all, but after a little...motivation, one of the men told me what I wanted to know. He said there is something valuable on the timber yard land. He said one of the Woozels called it a 'treasure'. He didn't know what it was, but he said a group of Woozels bring torches to the timber yard at night, but he doesn't know what they do there because they don't allow men to go with them."

"Ahh! Now it is beginning to become clear" I said. "We are on a treasure hunt. If these Woozels can get whatever it is out of the ground before we can stop them they will have perpetrated an enormous theft right under our very noses. Let us go up in the zephyr and see what our timber yard looks like at nightfall." Up we went with our binoculars that could see in the dark and what we found was quite surprising to me. I saw a large line of torches that headed across the timber yard directly towards the building that sat on the northeast corner.

"I believe we have found our destination Inspector Pooh!" Trespassers shouted over the balloon's gas release.

"Indeed Trespassers" I responded. "First thing in the morning I will get a warrant and we will go visit that building.

The next morning I did just what I said. I went to see a judge in his office and got a warrant to search the building and anything under the building. I specifically asked for that language in case we were dealing with a mine or some sort of tunnel underneath the facility. Tigger and Trespassers met me at the station and we headed back to the Virginia Street Timber Yard. Once we arrived we went to go find Eeyore, we presented him with the warrant and he took us into the yard. He then pointed towards the building a good distance across the yard and began walking away, mumbling something I couldn't quite catch. I did hear the words "I knew today would be ruinous" and I assumed it was his usual cheerful language.

The building looked practically unused. It was a big white building that had green lichen all over it. Someone needed to wash it down if you asked me. Surely if it looked this bad the timber yard didn't use it very often. Except the door looked remarkably different. It looked like someone used it regularly. It was clean, it looked like someone had polished the wood. It even had a shiny door knob on it that looked fairly new. I knew the door would be locked and I was not disappointed. Fortunately I had my lock pick kit with me. I had learned to use it from my days in the Hundred Acre Woods before I joined the army. Rabbit was one of my friends and neighbors. Just for fun, sometimes I would wait until he left his house and then pick his front door, sneak inside and move some of his furniture around. He would get so mad and accuse me, but he couldn't prove who it was.

That is, until he got me back. One day after picking his lock I slid through the hole to enter his living room as normal, but I didn't notice until too late that he made the hole considerably smaller. Instead of sliding into the room, my body got stuck right around my belly. Rabbit laughed and laughed and only gave me water and carrots for a week until I had lost enough weight to slide out on my own. _"Well played Rabbit"_ I thought to myself. ::Click:: the door came open after a gentle turn of the knob. Inside was a room full of boards and wood pulp. Saws, hatchets, axes and various tools littered the ground.

"What a mess!" Tigger proclaimed. "It looks like a group of pigs have built a den in here." He smiled and cut his eyes towards Trespassers hoping he would get a rise out of him.

"Yes it is a mess" Trespassers said as he stroked his chin. "Of course I hear Tigers prefer skulls and rotten carcasses of the prey they catch as their home décor." The two looked at each other and laughed heartily. Meanwhile I had found the door to an underground passage.

"Whenever you gentleman are done, I think I have found what we are looking for." They both crowded around me and we looked at a small wooden door with a metal bar going horizontally across its middle. I easily moved the bar and set it on the ground next to the wall. The passage behind the door was very dark, but it clearly made a decline. Luckily Tigger had suggested we bring our night vision binoculars to the timber yard and so we pulled them out and headed into the passageway. We must have followed it for over a mile as it winded down and around. After a while though we came to a small opening. Then as the walls seemed to disappear into a very large cavern we saw light coming from below.

Five feet in front of us the floor disappeared. We walked up to the edge and looked down and saw an absolutely breathtaking sight. It must have been an one hundred foot drop to the bottom, but towering high off of that subterranean floor was a large ancient looking building. "Wow!" I declared, but only as loud as a whisper.

"What is that thing?" Trespassers asked in an equally quiet tone.

"I have no idea" I confessed. It looked like some sort of majestic palace or perhaps an ancient shrine. It looked like it was made entirely of marble on one side and obsidian on the other. The white half was closer to us than the black half, but there was a large multitude of torches which allowed us to see both sides very well. I don't know what substance those torches were burning, but they burned very large and bright and I suspected that had some sort of alchemist who made them special chemicals for this light.

I put my binoculars on again, but I turned off my night vision since I no longer needed it. I looked down and saw a large group of Woozels going in and out of the building. Some of them wore those same purple robes Kipner wore. The rest seemed to be wearing various forms of dull commoner clothes. Perfect to get dirty in and wash clean later. They were hauling tools into the structure and then pulling marble and obsidian out, placing it into carts. After watching for a while I realized what was happening. They were taking the building apart from the inside to collect its valuable resources. Then I saw Kipner standing off to the side looking like he was the man in charge. "Well, well" I said quietly. "I think it is time we sent for a squad of policemen."

One hour later we returned with twenty five more officers and two men from the university, who were experts in classical archeology. On my command one of the sergeants blew his whistle and the police officers descended upon the mass of Woozels. Some tried to fight, but they were billy clubbed into submission. Some tried to run, but fortunately my tinker friend, Owl, had provided me with ten 'net guns' that could launch a net up to thirty feet. The runners were quickly neutralized as well. The only truly difficult task were the Woozels whom Kipner personally led into the building itself and locked the door from the inside behind them.

The two archeologists were then brought close to the temple and Dr. Johnson, the old gray haired man began explaining that this was in fact a Phoenician temple. "I didn't know the Phoenicians came to England Dr. Johnson." I commented.

"Neither did anyone else" he replied. "This is a huge discovery. It is well known that the Phoenicians were worthy seafarers but this is a huge discovery Inspector Pooh. Had you not found this before they dismantled it, England would have lost an invaluable treasure."

"Alright boys, you heard the good doctor! I shouted so the men could all hear me. "This temple is effectively priceless so do not do anything to damage it if you can help it."

"What about the Woozels inside?" Tigger asked.

"We starve them out. Give them a few days and they will beg to surrender." I fixed my hat as I said that. It had gotten a little off center. Then I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small pouch of chewing tobacco. "I usually don't chew anymore, but this is my celebratory pack I was saving for when this case got solved."

After three days some of the Woozels inside surrendered to us. We asked what happened to the rest and apparently they had gone deeper into the complex than their companions. We found out that these Woozels had continued on were the cult members most devoted to the cause. They also told us they had brought the great tiger into the temple because their deity had ordered it.

They told us the mercenaries were hired by Robert Guiscard the lawyer, who we later had arrested on charges of conspiracy at his law firm before news of the police raid was known to the public. We also decided to go ahead and go further into the temple and find out what happened to Kipner and the cult leaders.

The center of the temple was a large chamber, it reminded me of some sort of throne room a king would have used in the days of old. On the far wall was a pedestal with something on it, surrounded by five Woozels lying dead on the ground. There on the pedestal was the body of a tiger with a knife stuck in its chest. It appeared to have bled to death, but it looked like three of the Woozels had been savagely mauled in the act of this beastly sacrifice. Kipner had apparently stabbed the fourth Woozel himself and then turned the knife on himself. It was truly a gruesome scene. Why would the five Woozels work so hard to sacrifice a tiger and then once completed kill himself and his last companion? On the pedestal next to the tiger we also found a note that read the following. "I asked our Great Lord for help. I begged him with the sacrifice of this horrid creature. The Great Lord Rikki Tikki Tavi said 'No'. He said I would not be allowed to escape and I must never leave this temple. -High Priest Kipner"

I brought this note to my superiors in London. I also told them the unusual story of what happened in Old Nichols and asked them if they could shed light on what happened. Christopher Robin was one of the men there at that meeting. He said "The Tavi Cult is an ancient Indian cult. They specialize in terrorism and have a strong hatred of the English government. They will not stop until England leaves India forever or until they are destroyed. Kipner was one of their leaders and somehow he found that temple. Had you and your officers not stopped him they could have used that marble and obsidian to fill the coffers of the Tavi Cult. A ridiculous and vulgar cult who worship a Mongoose God named Rikki Tikki Tavi. They believe Rudyard Kipling stole the name for his Jungle Book. They say he is a true divinity that will free India forever." Christopher Robin now had a big smile on his face. "Enough of the crazy talk though. Time for celebration of your success. For your good work you and officer Trespassers are getting big promotions and since Tigger is a citizen, he is getting a big monetary reward. Good job you silly ole' bear!"

I did warn you that this story is barely believable. It is true though. Maybe White Chapel does

have Jack the Ripper, but it will never be Old Nichol. I write this story partially to preserve a piece of the history of this great city and it's police force. The truth is though, I am now an old bear. I wrote it because even though this story took place many years ago, it still fascinates me.


End file.
